Fresh from a trip down to Miami, breakout MC Action Bronson is quick with t… Read Full Bio ↴Fresh from a trip down to Miami, breakout MC Action Bronson is quick with the cuisine jokes: despite sampling a few burgers and wines at the Food Network's South Beach Wine and Food Festival, the classically trained former chef maintains his signature version would've trumped all. "The Bronson Burger could've easily won any category at that place," he proclaims, casually asserting his culinary confidence.

Combining gut-busting humor, complex lyrical food references, and a vast understanding of street culture, Action Bronson carved out his own lane last year with undeniable mic skills and gregariously offbeat charisma. After self-releasing acclaimed debut "Dr. Lecter" and a well-received collaborative album with producer Statik Selectah ("Well-Done," on DCide), Bronson's latest effort, "Blue Chips," finds the Queens native teaming with Fool's Good Records producer Party Supplies and sneaker brand Reebok for an off-the-cuff free mixtape.

Much like Bronson's endless punch lines, "Blue Chips," out today (March 12) on Complex.com, took shape in an easygoing studio atmosphere. "The original thing I wanted to call it was '5 Minute Beats and 1 Take Raps' [because] that's pretty much all it really was," Bronson reveals. "It was all on the fly shit," agrees Party Supplies. "It wasn't thought out."

Most of "Blue Chips" was made in Party Supplies' home studio in Brooklyn over YouTube sample digging, grub from local chicken joint Pies 'n' Thighs, and obligatory smoke sessions.

Action Bronson + Party Supplies, "Blue Chips"

"I jumped on YouTube, found some weird obscure sample -- basically started looping it on the drum machine and [Bronson] wrote some shit," Party Supplies says of the recording. "It's digging in the crates," Bronson adds. " is digging nonetheless. It's still hard to find [the gems]."

The spontaneous environment spurred some choice moments of carefree collaboration. "Party Supplies helped me out on a rhyme, on the song 'Blue Chips,'" laughs Bronson. "He actually was saying things to me and I was turning them into rap."

That open-minded attitude attracted Reebok, leading it to fund the project and sponsor the release. "They're very progressive. They're both two different people, both very creative," says Reebok head of entertainment for global Matt Pantoja, a hip-hop fan and friend of managers Dante Ross (Bronson) and Peter Oasis (Party Supplies). "Everybody's talking about bringing New York back and all these things, and I felt like this was something that was going to create that kind of energy and get people psyched on the project."

For both artists, the Reebok deal was a chance to pair with one of their favorite brands. "Reebok introduced the idea to us, we were into it, and we love Reebok. [They're] such a classic company," Party Supplies says. "I grew up wearing them shits," affirms Bronson. "I wear the Kamakazi and I still have a lot of old school Reeboks today: the Pumps, the Michael Chang's, the Shaq's."

Practice
Action Bronson & Party Supplies Lyrics

I'm supposed to be the franchise player
And we're
In here talking about practice i mean
Listen, we talkin' about practice not a game
Not a game, not a game
We talkin' about practice

It's motherfucking me bam Bam Shit man
Slap her ass like she scored 30 ride dirty

Thirty thousand for the DNA swab
Don't quit your day job
You batty boys ain't even on my radar
Order breasts of veal at Walt Frazier's
Dog, my women come in
All flavors, fold paper, lord save us
Complete a drug deal in a
Rental rented from AVIS
Best believe my motherfucking Timberlands
Pounding the pavement dog, I lay with hoes
I smoke butter the same color as Jalen Rose
Stand on the balcony naked
Just screaming, "Fuck it, i made it!"
Every meal I eat steak to make a statement
Patrick Bateman, thirty Mexicans
In the basement, let's get it shaking
The whole block's smelling like bacon
My shorty keep it real
Take a shit out the car window
Hide money in a Nintendo
Got a degree in dental
Cook like she down in the delta
Wrestled the gator for the foot display
River monsters, Dog the Bounty Hunter
Open bally stuntin', this is
Southern Cali summer, bitch

It be the novelist
Bare handed choke a hippopotamus
I need to go to Drug-Dealing Anonymous
Cheerio ship-flip like Rey Mysterio
Me laid up with big money be the scenario
Out the watch flew a canary, it's cuckoo
Let my man who just came home
Throw a party where you poo-poo
Uh, that is not a nice thought
Get locked up in the afternoon
I make it out by Night Court
Long as I don't see that world
I got the lawyer on retainer
Like a teenage girl
Eating chicken parmesean in the holding cell
My feet up, hittin' my G-Pen, yeah
You know me well quadruple-black coupe
Smacks for if you act stupid
No love here, motherfuckers, I clap Cupid
Jump in the black Buick
Then make a sharp right
My mother wrist is so cut
Look like a shark bite
And when I play the guitar
I'm always on acid
She said I look like David Justice when
She see me floating in the Maxima it's me

Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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